


A Charming Fairy Tale: Last Hope

by Venomis



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2020-07-27 19:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20051482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venomis/pseuds/Venomis
Summary: Happy is intrigued by Amber when she turns out to be just as fearless as he. He however doesn't know the reason she's not afraid to die: she's already dead.





	1. The Mirror

Usually Amber avoided this alley. Every time she walked past it, there was a gnawing feeling in her stomach, making her look the other way immediately. Still this was the fastest way home – and she was late.

Knowing her father would throw tantrums when she was late, she didn't want to take the risk of finding him in the middle of one of his rages. She saw him only once a week and even though it was never a nice visit, it was something that Amber wanted to keep doing. He couldn't help it he was sick and that he was slowly losing his mind.

Actually she had planned to take the car, but the thing had refused to start _again. _Vehicles and Amber... they just didn't go along very well; for some reason they always decided to give her the finger when she needed them.

She started to walk a little faster. Her footsteps echoed between the high walls while she was plagued by a disgusting smell. As she rounded a corner, she saw a large dumpster. Turning her head away from it, she looked right through the gate of a poorly maintained garden. Three man were standing there, one of them looking straight into her eyes.

He seemed to feel caught. For a moment she caught a glimpse of some bricks of white stuff in their hands – was it drugs?

"Oh god," she whispered in panic and she quickened her pace. Suddenly hysteria squeezed her throat.

And with good reason.

There was a loud blast. Before it could startle her, there was an overwhelming pain in her head.

Then there was nothing.

* * *

Amber heard a tapping sound, as if someone was tapping his foot on the ground. With difficulty she raised herself. Her limbs felt heavy – far away, as if they were no longer attached to her body. She looked down and shrieked when she could see right through herself.

"Please, think about your volume, child," a bored voice sounded. "I appreciate the quiet."

Child! She'd passed the 30 a long time ago! She couldn't even remember the last time someone had called her 'child'.

She squinted her eyes. Was it really a _throne _she was looking at? The gold it was made of was shining so brightly she could barely look at it. So she turned her head away. The rest of the round room was made of gold as well. It was suffocating, it gave her the jitters. It felt like some golden prison.

"What am I doing here?"

"That's what I was asking myself as well. I guess you're another one who isn't too fond of leaving Earth."

Amber frowned, then she decided to ignore his answer. That guy was definitely nuts. She walked around the circular golden room, looking for a door. There wasn't one.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Tower of Second Chances. Doesn't it sound fantastic?" The figure got up and slid off his golden throne. It was a tall, skinny man with sunken eyes and a sleazy robe contrasting with all the gold around them.

"Who are you?"

"Your tiny human brain wouldn't be able to handle the truth." He came closer, looking down at her. He folded his hands in front of his waist, his bony fingers drumming on the back of his left hand. "You're dead," he told her. "My sister leads the Commission Against Gratuitous Earthly Violence. Yes, it's a stupid name. Apparently she has decided that you will get another chance to live."

Amber's glance slid down again. This was bullshit. Carefully she touched her half transparant stomach; her finger went right through it. She shivered.

"Okay," she said. The better she cooperated, the sooner this freak would show her the magical door by which she could leave this strange, strange place that was probably the result of way too much alcohol. "Lemme guess... I'll have to so something to earn that chance?"

The man nodded slowly. His bright, red hair slithered down his shoulders. "In an attempt to do something about the abundance of violence on Earth, my sister started an experiment. Some Earthlings are allowed to go back, conditioned that they commit themselves to her cause."

"Okay. Sounds noble. So what does that mean for me?"

"Let me show you." He waved his hand through the air; then the floor split and a silver substation glided across the solidified gold. It formed a mirror showing a park. Frowning, she looked at two Hispanic guys who were talking and hugging each other. Suddenly the hotdog man behind them stepped forward, slamming a knife in the back of the youngest. Shrieking, Amber stepped back, covering her mouth with her hand.

"What - what..."

"You wouldn't know it to look at him but this man is called Happy," the man told her. "It's your job to warm his cold heart. If you succeed in letting love sprout in his heart, convincing him to share it with you, you will stay alive."

Disgusted she looked at the skinny creep. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Some would say yes. Otherwise they wouldn't have banished me to this boring tower." He showed her a wicked smile.

"This is your deal? I stay alive if I succeed in making this sick bastard fall in love with me? What are you, some failing Cupid?"

"According to my sister, this is the best way to change humanity. With love." He laughed. "Well, I have to admit that I think it's ridiculous too. I would cheer if you all would just kill each other."

Amber shook her head, she was so overwhelmed that she didn't know what to say.

"And what if I refuse?" she asked with a raised chin. "If you send me back and I just give you the finger?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Then you'll disappear. Your body will slowly fade until you're gone forever. The only thing slowing down the process, is the love of our Tacoma Killer." He laughed briefly. "Well, you don't get a new life for nothing sweetheart. Take it or leave it."

Questioning, he looked at her.

Amber bit the inside of her cheek. As if he was really giving her a choice.

She didn't want to die, not anytime soon. It was simple as that.

"Fine," she grumbled.

Mockingly, he clapped his hands. "Well done. Your first smart choice."


	2. Web of Lies

Her body didn't feel the same. Although she wasn't floating, it felt like gravity had less effect on her; she felt light and a little absent. Amber had no idea how she had ended up here; suddenly she'd been sitting on a bench. For some time she had roamed through Charming, hoping to get a brilliant idea. Up to now, she failed.

As the ground she covered increased, she discovered other things. She was neither hungry nor thirsty, felt warm nor cold and despite of the many, many steps she had taken her feet didn't hurt.

In front of a shop window she stood still and stared at her reflection. She saw herself, nothing led to the conclusion that she was dead. Shaking her head because of the thought, she sighed. Of course she wasn't dead and being sent back to Earth to win the heart of a murderer was even more insane.

Still Amber had no explanation for the fact that she had ended up in this unknown town, nor did she understand why she felt so restless, so incomplete. Her hands glided down her arms and she pressed her fingers into her flesh. Her skin wasn't transparent, but at the same time she barely felt her touch.

The rumbling of motorcycles made her look up; three men were speeding down the street. Sons, she saw. That couldn't be a coincidence. With a sigh she turned into their direction and started to walk. She had never heard of Charming before, so the town couldn't be that big.

Following the main road, it didn't take long before she saw the garage. The clubhouse had to be near. But what now? She couldn't simply walk inside and tell Happy that she would die even more if he wasn't going to fall in love with her. And she had no car, she couldn't pretend the vehicle was broken.

Digging into her memory she hoped to find something which could help her. But what memory could possibly help her? She hadn't exactly been in a situation like this before. Also, it felt like there was a veil draped over her memories, hiding all important aspects of her former life.

She however did hear a pang, so loud and real she looked over her shoulder.

There was nothing, just a nagging feeling in her stomach.

A gunshot – it was a gunshot! Had she died because of it? Suddenly she realized something. There was no doubt these bikers were brimming with confidence; what if she pretended to seek protection because someone was after her? Or didn't they care about an unknown woman? She thought back to the man Happy had killed; he hadn't even been thirty.

It was worth a shot. They wouldn't kill her for running into their clubhouse, right? And even if they did – well, she was dead already so it wouldn't make much of a difference. This whole mission was stupid anyway; the extra time the weird guy had given her was like injury time at a soccer match.

And so, she started to run. Not immediately to the garage; first she dove into another street, hoping to look exhausted once she reached the clubhouse. But as she was running, the sweat drops didn't show up, there was no stitch in her side nor was she panting. Running wasn't difficult at all. Hoping to create a little bit of colour on her face, she squeezed her cheeks.

_Okay, here goes nothing._

Picking up a little more speed she ran around the corner, crossed the lot belonging to the garage and headed straight for the clubhouse. She grabbed the kutte of the first guy within reach. "They're after me!" she yelled. "Please stop them! They're going to kill me!"

Since her acting skills weren't that impressive that she thought she could cry, she started to scream hysterically. The knowledge that she was dead and would stay dead if she couldn't wrap that creep of a Happy around her finger, made it much easier to freak out.

"Hey hey, calm down." The man laid a hand against her cheek and watched her with friendly, concerned eyes. His friendliness was a little unexpected in the clubhouse of a biker gang, making her stare at him in disbelief. "You're safe here, okay? I won't let anything happen to you."

His voice was really soothing and a little hopeful she studied his face. Oh, how much easier would it have been if she had ran straight into Happy's arms? But no – although he possessed just a little bit more hair than her target, he was clearly younger and the lines in his face were softer.

"See? Nobody well get past that door." He pointed over her shoulder. As she looked back, she counted at least five armed men.

Whoops – what would they do when they found out she was on the run for nothing? Would they think she was crazy? Would they hurt her – well, assuming she could feel pain? Since she didn't know what else to do, she stared at the floor with slumped shoulders. _Come on... you can __produce__ at least a few __tears__, right?_

But sadly no, not a single drop escaped her eye.

Her next attempt was trying to look like she was in shock and she started to shiver.

"You want to hide? You feel safer in one of the back rooms?" Encouraging, his hand squeezed her shoulder.

She was completely overwhelmed by his sweet manners – she hadn't expected that from an outlaw. Without looking at him she nodded and he wrapped an arm around her and led her into a hallway. She raised her eyebrows as they entered a bedroom – wow, this was becoming strange – but luckily he just sat down on the edge of the bed with her. As if making a point, he laid his gun in his lap.

Amber stared at it with wide eyes. Again she heard the gunshot in her head, and the thought that a thing like that had ended her life made her feel sick to the stomach.

"I'm Juice," the man continued. "What's your name?"

Her name was on the tip of her tongue.

But no, she couldn't use her real name. Once they would look into her, they would discover that she was dead.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't remember anything before today."

And so, the web of lies was starting to expand.


	3. First Impression

It didn't take long before Amber realized that she had made an enormous mistake. She had to hit on a killer – a ruthless guy. Somehow she had to impress him – and hiding here like a scared rabbit wasn't exactly a mind blowing first impression. Frustrated, she gritted her teeth, silently cursing herself. _Why did you follow the first plan coming up in your mind? _She should have taken the time to let it sink, she should have considered better ideas. If anything, she should have presented herself as a bad ass chick, not like a crybaby. Luckily she had shed no tears but her behavior was still the contrary of a bad ass.

"You feelin' a lil better?" Juice's voice lured her back to reality.

_No, I'm a fucking mess. I'm fucking dead and I'm fucking up my only chance to get my life back!_

Instead of spitting out her frustration, she nodded. _Let's salvage what's left of my image. _She sat up a little straighter.

"Sorry," she said. "I woke up in the back of a van. Had no idea where I was – I don't even know who I am. I panicked and ran away, until I saw the bikes. Thought you guys could help me."

_Please believe me! Come on, this isn't that unbelievable, right?_

The concerned look in his eyes was just as genuine as it had been before. "I heard no shots, so I don't think they've followed you. I'll give our doc a call; she can check up on you. Or would you rather go to a hospital?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, I don't wanna go to a place where I'm easy to find. And the police – I don't trust them either."

He nodded slowly. These guys probably weren't very close to the cops, so she didn't think he would object.

"You wanna wait here? In my room, I mean?"

"No I'm okay," she said quickly. "I feel a lot better. I uh – I wanna make sure the others are alright."

"Okay." Juice got up, leading her out of his room. As Amber followed him, she tried to figure out the best way to behave. Like someone who could recover from shock quickly, she decided.

As they entered the clubhouse, all eyes were on her. Her eyes fluttered around the room and landed upon Happy. He was leaning against the bar, a toothpick between his lips. Unfortunately he wasn't less creepy than in the vision she had seen. His glance was intense, calculating, like he was trying to read her with one look. She assumed it wasn't personal, it was probably part of his killer toolbox or something. Smiling about her own thoughts, she forgot that her eyes were still locked with those of the Killer.

He didn't smile back; all he did was squinting his eyes a bit. Suspicion, she judged. Well, at least she'd attracted his attention. She lifted the corner of her mouth a little higher, a bit provokingly. Pretending to be the mysterious lady might turn out to be a useful strategy.

A handsome, blond man walked over to her. "We haven't seen anyone, ma'me."

"Then I must have been quicker than I thought," she answered calmly. "My apologies for all the commotion."

"What did they want from you?" another man asked. His bright blue eyes studied her face curiously.

"I don't know," she answered.

"She lost her memory," Juice explained. "She woke up in a van, managed to escape and ran away."

"And her wrists weren't tied together?"

Silently as a ghost, Happy had joined the small group of men. His voice was deep and rough, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. Thank god – there was at least _something _attractive about this guy.

"No," she answered. Her eyes studied his face. Kidnapping innocent people was probably as natural for him as breathing, there was no doubt he could give her so called kidnappers some good advice. "They probably thought I would be longer sedated."

"Sounds like a bunch of amateurs," Happy concluded. "Failing to sedate their victim properly, forgetting to restrain her wrests, not locking the door and losing her during the chase..." Disbelief was dripping from his words.

Damn – why had this sounded like a good story?

"Then it shouldn't be that hard to find 'em. Lemme see if I can find some camera footage. Where did you leave the van?" Juice asked.

Amber shrugged her shoulders. "I can't remember I've been in this town before, I really wouldn't know. I think I was running for ten minutes until I saw the bikes and hoped to find some help here."

"Ten minutes," Juice muttered. "Okay, that search area isn't that big." He turned around and sat down behind a laptop.

Amber stayed where she was, feeling a bit lost.

"I'm Jax," the blond man introduced himself.

"I don't know my name," she answered quietly.

"She doesn't want to go to the cops or a hospital," Juice said. "Maybe you can ask Tara to check up on her."

Jax nodded slowly. "Yeah... will do. Hey, why don't you take a seat? Sack will get you a glass of water. If you need something else, just ask him." He motioned at a blond young man who was sweeping up the place. The moment he heard his name, he looked up and headed for the bar.

Jax wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to the sitting area. Amber sat down on a couch. Well – at least they hadn't sent her away. Things could have been worse. Her glance glided to Happy. For example, they could _all _have looked at her like he did. His inscrutable glance still rested upon her as if he was keen on catching her on a mistake. Well – as it may, she had at least attracted his attention. _Mission accomplished._

Well, at least phase 1.


	4. Risks

It had been three days since Amber had died and returned to Earth. As expected, the men hadn't found a lead to her made up abductors, but luckily nobody had called her crazy either. Juice was looking after her, he had presented himself as a real knight in shining armor. It was cute – but also exhausting. Especially because she wasn't in danger at all. As long as he was pretending to be her protector, she would never find a way to win Happy's heart. The past days she hadn't made any progress at all. Yesterday there had been one very short talk. Knowing that she didn't have forever, she had walked up to him.

"Hey, I think I've spoken to everyone but you," she had told him, where after she had shown him her most charming smile. Apparently that smile was less charming than she had always believed, for he had just stared back at her with a cold glance.

"Got nothing to tell ya. I don't trust you."

And after these words he had simply walked away. As it seemed, pretending to be the mysterious lady was neither a successful approach.

Amber tried to shake off the gloom. She didn't want to give up – she _couldn't _give up because she would no longer exist next month! In front of the mirror she rolled up her shirt, exposing her skin up to her chest. Since yesterday the skin around her bellybutton was vague; slowly it became transparent. By mirror it was impossible to see, but she could see it when she looked directly at it and she could even feel it. Her body had turned into an hourglass – and the grains were falling in a quicker pace than she liked. With her shirt she could hide the blur, but what if it expanded to her arms? She could see crazy scientists lock her up in some shady facility to run countless tests on her like she was some failed superhero.

Sighing, she stared at her reflection. "What should I do? This mission is so ridiculous! Why is it precisely _Happy's _heart that I need to conquer, out of all people? Why not one of the others, someone like Juice? That would have been easy!"

Suddenly the mirror bathed in a blue glow. A moment later a face appeared, with blood red hair and piercing eyes. Amber bolted, too overwhelmed to yell.

"Are you crazy?!" she called out when she recognized the creep who had sent her on this retarded mission. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"That's okay, you're already dead, remember?" He lifted the corner of his mouth.

Amber gritted her teeth, she really didn't need a reminder of that! "You gave me an impossible assignment! Let me do something else."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that. Your souls are already connected."

"Well he obviously can't feel it," she grumbled.

"Has to be his nature; he's not blessed with a lot of feelings." The man chuckled.

Amber stared furiously at him. "Yeah, laugh it up. This is my life that's depending on it! The guy has a heart of stone, what the hell should I do with it?!"

"I can offer you some help, give you a bit of guidance."

"Well yes please!"

"I have to warn you: according to some I have a bit strange sense of humor. Which is inevitable, once you guard the Domains of Death. It's not the merriest job. I don't rule out the chance that you won't appreciate my help, but I assure you it will lead to the desired effect."

Amber kept staring at him, her jaw shaking in anger. "Stop talking in riddles! Help me or get the fuck away from me!"

"Actually I can do both. It's up to you."

With a grunt, she clawed her fingers through her hair. He was driving her insane. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"I'm known among many names."

"Let me guess; Hades is one of them?"

He lifted the corner of his mouth. "Bingo. Although I have to admit that I wish I had Hades' powers, then I would have been a king instead of a bored guard."

She rolled her eyes. "What's your most common name? It's easier to curse someone if I know his name."

"Most people call me Anubis. My real name is unpronounceable for a mortal."

"I'm no longer a mortal."

"Fair enough. But that's what you want to be again, right?" He tilted his head. "Have you ever wondered what great things are waiting for you in the Domain of Death? I will never understand why humans are always clinging so desperately to their miserable life."

"Some creatures are content with little. I just want my body back. One that doesn't fade. So can you help me or not? Cause I really don't know how to get through to that caveman."

"I will give you a chance to sneak into his heart. However, there are risks involved – without risks there's no fun for me." Again, his lips curled into a sinister smirk.

"What risks?"

"I leave that open. I like the element of surprise."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"You will know when the moment's there. Follow your heart." He laughed quietly. "Or its replica."

"But..."

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Amber? Are you okay? To who are you talking?

"Oh fuck," she grunted.

The mirror glowed brightly, then it was covered in a red mist until Anubis was gone.

Amber stared at the object until she was sure there were no traces of magic, then she opened the door and gave Juice an apologetic smile.

"It's a strange habit of mine. I use to talk to myself in front of the mirror to feel more confident."

He raised his eyebrows, then he shrugged his shoulders. "I'll get some clothes, then I'm gone I promise."

Amber sat down on the edge of the bed. "Take your time. I already feel guilty enough for confiscating your room."

During the first night he had suggested to sleep in his apartment so she could use his clubroom. It was a great temporal solution, so she had tried to sound not too enthusiastic when she agreed with his suggestion. But it worked. For now. If he didn't barge into the room too often and if these strange mirror visits weren't going to turn into a habit.

With a strange feeling she thought back to the conversation she'd just had. His mocking smirk, that arrogant look in his eyes... she should have refused his help. And now it was too late.


	5. Forever Scarred

The conversation with Anubis left a bad taste in Amber's mouth. There was something very sinister about him. Furthermore it was hard to believe that he _really _wanted to help her; she rather had the feeling he was looking for some entertainment. And what would entertain a dark soul like him? Probably not something she considered as her hobby. On the other hand, Happy loved to stab hungry passers-by when he was baking hot dogs, so they probably suffered from the same mental illness. Maybe he should have been the one hooking up with Happy. What if he really planned something ridiculous like that? Should she take the biker on a date where they were going to torture kids or dissect living animals? A shiver crept down her spine, and at the same time she wondered what she was prepared to do to get her life back. If someone else had to die to give her the chance to live, would she agree with it? Was she really that selfish? The thought that she wasn't immediately screaming NO!! made her feel sick to the stomach. 

She needed to mingle, to distract herself and above all; she needed to act normal. Not like some zombie who desperately wanted to resurrect. And so, she left Juice's room and walked to the clubhouse. The afternoon was soon meeting its end; food odours floated towards her and she walked into the kitchen to see if she could help. 

Amber didn't say much as she pitched in wherever she could, nor when they were sitting around the table and having dinner. She rather listened to the conversations of the others, hoping to hear something she could use later. It wasn't very useful. They talked about typical guy stuff: food, chicks, cars and bikes. The few women at the table talked to each other, but they were too far away for Amber to be able to participate in the conversation. 

To her left, she felt someone staring at her. She knew it was Happy, he was still trying to tell her non-verbally that it was about time she fucked off. Although she tried to ignore his stares, sweat was itching down her neck and a little cynical she wondered if he was able at all to look at other people without creating the impression he wanted to drink their blood. 

A few seats away from her, she filtered Chibs' voice from the noise around them. "So how's tha goin'?" he asked Juice, signalling at her with his eyes in a very obvious way. 

Juice's glance moved to her, and when their eyes met his lips curled into a mix between a smile and a smirk. Amber signed internally. He better not made some move. He was nice and charming but oh, he looked so young with that mohawk and head tattoos. As if he had just left high school. She would rather choose a more mature man. 

Not that it mattered what she wanted. Soon she would be dead anyway. Really dead, this time. Because Happy had no interest in her, or because he had in some mysterious way fallen for her, accidentally killing her during some breath play. 

* * *

After dinner the Sons, or at least the full-patched members, left the clubhouse. Since Tara left as well because she had a night shift, Amber decided to spend some time with the kids. She never had the desire to have children, but she liked to play with them; as long as she could hand them to someone else once they started to bore her. They persuaded her to play hide and sick, and she smirked at Half Sack who neither succeeded in telling them no. The kids wanted the adults to seek, so Half Sack and she went in turns.

She had just been sent outside by the kids to count again when there was a loud blast. The ground seemed to shake, and a moment later burning debris rained down around her. 

Paralyzed, Amber stared forward. Flames leaped up to the roof, the furthest windows spewing flames. Her hands were shaking. Had – had Anubis done this? No... no that couldn't be, right? 

People ran outside, smoke forming so quickly she could barely see anything. Panting, Kip stopped running; he'd laid a kid over his shoulder and was holding the hand of the boy's older sister. Two kids were still missing... 

To her relief, Gemma left the clubhouse, coughing, but with Abel in her arms. Only Thomas was left... The kid was about three years old; he had probably no idea what was going on. He barely understood the game they had been playing; he had returned to his daddy's bedroom time and again, hiding underneath the blankets. 

_That's where he is!_

Gemma pressed Abel against her chest, muttering the name of her other grandson and looking around in panic. For a moment she exchanged a look with Half Sack. He laid Kenny on the ground, carefully touching his head wound. 

"He's in Jax's bedroom."

Right when she wanted to run away, the prospect with the weird name grabbed her wrist. "I'll go, I..."

"No, stay with the kids." Tearing herself away from him, she rushed into the clubhouse. The smoke didn't bother her, she didn't even feel the heat. A little dazed she stood still. She should feel terrified, her body should simply block because she was standing in a burning building but the only thing on her mind was the question whether the fire would be able to hurt her. Shaking off the absurdity, she started to run again, heading for the dorm rooms. She might be immune to the infernal flames, but little Thomas wasn't. 

The moment she stepped into the small hallway, she noticed that burning debris had scattered all over the floor. At the end of the hallway, the ceiling had come down; luckily Jax's room wasn't that far ahead. Slamming open the door, she tried to see something through the smoke. The wall at the end of the bed was in flames; the fire already spreading to the bedding. 

Thomas was not there.

"Thomas??" she called out. 

The fire however was roaring, the building cracking. She wouldn't hear the soft voice of a little kid. If she had been a scared child... what would she have done? She dropped on her knees and looked under the bed. Yeah, there he was! He had crawled towards the wall, his body completely frozen. 

"Come here sweetheart."

When he didn't respond, she crawled underneath the bed and pulled him towards her. His breathing was heavy and he could barely keep his eyes open. Tears stung her eyes – which surprised her, she thought she couldn't cry anymore. Getting on her feet, she pressed the kid against her chest and ran back to the hallway. With a thunderous roar, another part of the ceiling fell down. She turned around and looked at the window that was already blown out because of the fire. 

That was their way out. Stepping into the bathroom she opened the shower, drenching their clothes and hair. Her arms clutched around the almost unconscious kid, she returned to the bedroom. She couldn't see anything anymore because of the smoke, she felt short of breath and was coughing, although she wondered if it were really her lungs giving in or that it was all in her head. 

Pressing the boy tighter to her chest, she disappeared into the smoke, touching the wall until she found the windowsill. Her clothes started to smolder and Thomas started to scream in pain. 

"Oh you sick motherfucker, stop this!" she screamed at Anubis. 

How could he call this _help? _This was a tragedy, a disaster. Climbing over the windowsill she moved herself through the broken window and jumped down. She fell on her back. Immediately she laid Thomas down, putting down the fire on his clothes. Then she crawled backwards, away from the roaring building. 

She laid the boy in the grass. Her eyes became glassy with tears. It was a miracle that he had survived up to now; Anubis must have something to do with it. But at what cost? His right arm was badly burned, just like a part of his jaw. He had lost conscious and breathed with difficulty – but at least he was still breathing. Once she lifted him up again, she noted that her own arms were red and fiery, and on some spots the remains of her clothes were still boiling. How the hell she could explain this, she didn't know. But right now, all what mattered was taking Thomas to the hospital. 

With every step she took, her body felt heavier and it felt like something was eating her from the inside. This was her fault. The boy would be scarred forever and it was her fault. 


	6. Fireproof

Happy believed he was talented in a lot of things, yet comforting people wasn't one of them. Therefore, he had no idea what to do when Jax dropped down on his knees right in front of him, bursting out in heartbreaking screams. A moment ago, Sack had muttered that Thomas was still inside. 

Tearing his glance away from his mourning friend who was held by Opie and Chibs, he stared at the burning clubhouse. He saw more smoke than fire, and with a numb feeling he watched the firemen unrolling their fire hoses. 

He didn't get it. 

What had happened? They had planned a meeting with a potential buyer for their guns, but they had barely left Charming when all their phones had rung. At the moment they weren't in a war with anyone; Amber's so-called kidnappers had been the most exciting thing in weeks. Had this something to do with her? Did those guys really exist? He had his doubts – there were just too many holes in her story. 

"Where is Amber?" he asked. 

Nobody answered; everyone's thoughts were occupied. Nobody cared about a girl they barely knew. She however didn't leave Happy's mind – if all this had happened because of her, leading to the death of a little kid, he would find her and make her pay. 

Again his glance wandered across the others. Croweaters were clinging to each other, crying; most of his brothers stared defeated at the smoking clubhouse. For a moment his eyes lingered on Juice, who looked around restlessly. He was looking for the woman as well. 

Would she have sneaked out during the panic? She would only do so if her conscience was bothering her... Since she didn't have a vehicle, she had to be close. He walked away from the others. Right when he reached his bike, he saw her. She staggered around a corner of the building, carrying a boy in her arms. 

Happy cursed. Immediately he started to run and took Thomas from her. His eyes stung as he saw the burn marks on the kid's skin. 

"He's still alive," she said in a raspy voice. She coughed. "But he... he needs to go to the hospital."

He nodded and briefly glanced her over. Part of her dark hair was burnt, her blouse was completely burned off on some spots, showing a bright red skin. "You too."

She shook her head. "I'm fine. It's... not safe."

Happy disagreed, but this wasn't the right moment to discuss. "Stay with me," he ordered her, then he turned around and carried the boy to the still sobbing father. 

"Jax," he said. His voice cracked; the pain of his friend causing a lump in his throat. 

The man snapped up his head. His blond hair was sticking to his tear-stained face, his eyes so watery they looked like liquid. He jumped up the moment he saw Thomas and started to cry even harder, sobbing his son's name. 

Carefully, Happy gave the kid to Jax and briefly squeezed his shoulder. "He needs to go to the hospital." He nodded to the ambulance that was parked a little ahead from them. 

Stepping away from the emotional father, Happy decided to give him a moment with his son. He turned to Amber. Before he could say something to her, someone rushed past him, almost launching himself on top of her. 

"Thank god you're alive!" Juice called out. "When Sack told me you went in to get Thomas..." He took a deep breath and gave her another hug. "I thought you were gone," he muttered.

Happy saw her face tense. Only Juice was capable of not noticing all the burn marks on her clothes. On a whim, he grabbed Juice's shoulder and pulled him away from her. 

"Careful kid... she's hurt."

Amber looked up to him. Only now, he realized her eyes did her name justice; they were amber. 

Juice stepped away from her, running a hand across his mohawk. "Shit," he muttered. "Sorry."

Happy rolled his eyes when his younger brother started to blush. 

"Show me your arms," he told Amber. 

"I have to know how Thomas is," she muttered, turning around. 

Happy grabbed her upper arm, subtly turning her back. Had that woman nerves of steel? Judging by her clothes, some pieces of textile must have melted into her skin. That's why he didn't dare to pull up her sleeve herself, afraid to make her injuries worse. "Show me your arms," he repeated. "Thomas is on his way to the hospital, there's nothing you can do for him."

Her shoulders slumped down. Happy frowned his eyebrows, it felt like the news disappointed her. 

"I'm okay Happy," she said in a soft tone. "I jumped in the shower before I ran through the flames and climbed through the window."

Happy's eyes rested in hers. He was impressed by the fact that she had stayed so cool in the middle of a burning room. 

As she figured that he wasn't going to let her go before she obeyed, she rolled up her sleeve. Her skin was sparkling red, without traces of burn marks or blisters. 

"Does it hurt?"

She shook her head. "It feels irritated, that's all." The look in her eyes told him she meant it. 

His glance slid down, to the burnt fabric. It was really strange her injuries weren't worse. He laid his fingers around her forearm. The moment he felt how cold she was, his eyes shot to hers. 

Sighing, she pulled down her sleeve as if she felt ashamed of her barely harmed arms. "I don't know why I didn't get burnt," she admitted. "The flames didn't hurt..." She was silent for a while, not taking her eyes away from him. It was hard to read the look in them. Was it fear? Confusion?

"Is that why you ran into a burning building? You knew the flames weren't gonna hurt you?" He frowned his eyebrows, trying to understand this absurd situation. 

"No. It was just... instinct, I guess. We were playing hide and seek and Thomas kept hiding in his dad's room. I knew he was there..."

"You never felt pain? Not ever?" He asked, unable to hide the fact that he was intrigued by her. He knew some people weren't able to feel pain, but it didn't keep their skin from burning.

"I dunno," she muttered. "I lost my memory, remember?" Sighing, she stared past him. "Maybe I was part of some creepy experiment."

Happy would have raised his eyebrows higher at the sound of that sciencefiction theory if he hadn't seen her burnt clothes nor felt her cold skin.

"Yeah, maybe..." he said pensively. 

For the first time since he had met her, the feeling crept upon him that he might have been wrong about her and that she had really been kidnapped and had memory loss. And yet... she was still hiding something. He was sure of it.


	7. Help

A few days passed by. Days in which she didn't catch a glimpse of Happy. Now the clubhouse had burnt down, Juice had convinced her to sleep in his guestroom. For want of a better idea, Amber had agreed. Even though he wasn't unfriendly, he started to get on her nerves. He treated her like she was some puppy from a shelter. She was just waiting for him to pet her. He made sure that she took her rest, that there was enough food available, that she drank enough, that there was someone around she could pour her heart out to. 

Not that pouring her heart out was really an option. She couldn't exactly tell him that she was dead and that some sort of god had set the clubhouse on fire so she could attract Happy's attention. Even a little boy had ended up injured. The child was still in the hospital and although his life was no longer in danger, the burn marks on his face would never go away. 

A lasting memory of her selfishness. 

Sometimes that knowledge made her cry. She tried to keep up appearances when the others were around, for it was impossible to explain what was weighing so heavily on her mind. 

Pounding on the door dragged her out of her thoughts. She stood up. At most days, Juice didn't come home before dinner time. There were negotiations on another building and all Sons had been sent off to do god knows what. 

She got up and headed for the front door. A little suspicious, her hand rested upon the doorknob. What if someone had discovered that she was fireproof? Maybe it was because she was spending her time with outlaws, but she ran back to the kitchen, looked for a butcher knife, hiding it behind her back. 

She might not be able to die, but when they locked her up to examine her, she was game over as well. 

Back it in the hallway, she opened the door just a crack. 

It was Happy who was staring down at her. 

Without saying anything, he pushed open the door and stomped inside. A little blindsided she closed the door and returned to the living room, subtly leaving the knife at the windowsill. Happy shoved back a chair, with one look ordering her to sit down. She frowned her eyebrows. Who the hell did he think he was; just barging into this house and bossing her around like she was some damn slave? 

"Sit."

"You have missed your calling as a puppy trainer."

He glared so intensely at her it felt like he was trying to drill holes in her head. Rolling her eyes, she flopped down on the chair. She was in no mood to act all dramatic; her life was already so short and she was actually curious to the reason he was here.

He unfolded the map of the United States. "Point out the states."

Frowning, she looked up. "All of them?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "As many as you know."

Amber tried to understand what the point of this geography lesson was. Was he trying to figure out to what extend her memory was still working? Was he trying to catch her in a lie, did he know she hadn't lost her memory at all? If someone was able to see through her, it was Happy. She decided to ask him right away. "Why?"

His face seemed to be carved in stone, so hard did it look. If she touched his skin, would it feel soft at all? 

"You know 'em or not?" he asked impatiently. 

Sighing, she bent over the map. People with amnesia were able to remember basic things like that, right? She decided to take her chances and summed up some of the states. Halfway, he brusquely yanked back a chair and sat down. 

"And not a single state... calls up some sort of feelings? Something... familiar?"

Her glance left the map and wandered across his muscular arms up to his face. "You're trying to trigger memories," she said, surprised. 

Happy pretending to be a neuropsychiatrist , these were the days of miracles and wonders. 

"I gotta find those motherfuckers," he grunted. "You're the only lead I have. So concentrate. If there's still a hint of a memory inside that head of yours, I'ma find it."

Amber swallowed a sigh. Well, this was going to be interesting. _Let's consider this as some quality time together. _

Showing him her sweetest smile, she studied the map. "Arizona feels familiar... but whether I was born there, or lived there or even studied there... I have no idea."

"That's okay." Suddenly, his voice sounded less cold. He put a laptop in front of her. "Let's watch some pictures."

"How romantic," she couldn't help but taunt. 

He stared back at her, annoyed. "Don't think I do this for you." 

A small, hopeful smile crossed her lips. She had a feeling he wasn't completely honest. If that had been true, mentioning it hadn't been worth it. 

* * *

**Hey all!   
**   
I've started a new fanfic! It's not about Happy but it's a Son x Mayan fanfic and I'm very excited about it so I hope you want to give it a try! It's called 'Rivals'. (: 


	8. Movie Scripts

Happy studied her face while he fired question after question, trying to let her answer before she could contemplate her reply. She was hiding something, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she hesitated. It annoyed him to no end and he was about to strangle her just to find out who'd set the clubhouse on fire. A child was scarred for life because of whatever had happened to her – why was she so stubborn? Was she scared? She was not evil – she'd walked into a burning clubhouse to save Thomas. But there was something really, really wrong about this. He could feel it in his bones. The feeling had been there since she'd stepped into the clubhouse and her friendly smile and innocent looks hadn't been unable to change his miand..

"I'm done with your bullshit," he growled, slamming his fist on the table as she repeated not to remember anything. He leaned forward, stared into her amber eyes. "I know you're hiding something and I ain't leaving until I know the truth. The whole truth."

She sighed, almost defeated. "Fine," she mumbled. "You won't believe me anyway. My name is Amber Anderson. That's all I know. My memories are a blur, but I have a feeling I'm from the East Coast. Tell your friend Juice to look into me, to use facial recognition. You'll be stunned by the results."

"Just. Tell. Me," he said in a sharp voice.

"No. If you want answers, you'll have to dig them up yourself."  
Happy clenched his jaw. The only one who ever told him what to do was his president. Who the hell did she think she was?

_That's the problem. She_ doesn't _know who she is_.

Sighing, he pushed himself away from the table. Every other day he'd make someone talk by using violence but he knew there was no point in it. She could walk into a burning building without feeling pain. She wouldn't be impressed by his ways of torture.

Without saying another word to her he went back to what was left of the Sons' property. The smell of smoke still hung over the place. The workplace was intact; at least they still had their income. Part of the clubhouse had been collapsed; the place was ruined. Rebuilding it wasn't going to cost too much money; they were looking for another place they could turn into a clubhouse.

Happy had always been on the road, he'd been a Nomad for years, and he never paid much attention to buildings. For most others it had been their home and now it was gone while they still had no idea what had happened. A gas leak, the firemen had said. Happy knew that was not the full truth. Amber had something to do with this and he would do whatever was needed to uncover the truth.

Walking into the working place, he looked around. Juice was working on a car, like always so immersed by his work he didn't pay attention to anything else.

"You," he said in a growl. He grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him away from the car, not even smirking when Juice's head bumped against the hood of the car. "Come with me."

The kid nodded as he saw the dark look in Happy's eyes. He knew better than to object.

"Get your laptop."

They retreated to the office where Juice put his laptop on the table.

"So... What's this all about?"

"Your girlfriend."

"She's not m..."

"Shut up."

He didn't care what their relationship status was. She was pretty, he couldn't think of a reason why his brother wouldn't fuck her.

They waited in silence until Juice's laptop was ready.

"Her name is Amber Anderson."

"Umm okay?" Juice ran a hand across his mohawk and gave him a questioning look. "So... What am I looking for?"

"Dunno. Girl said you can figure out who she is. Using facial recognition or some other nerd shit."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do. I – uh – this might take a while."

Happy translated his nervous mumbling to _fuck off, you're gettin' on my nerves._

"Fine. Call me when you got something."

The kid nodded and Happy went outside to have a smoke. Sitting down on the picnic table he stared into the distance, making a mental list of everything that was weird about her.

1\. She'd lost her memories.

2\. She'd sought protection from people she knows nothing about.

3\. After a few hours, her fear was gone.

4\. While they weren't in a fight with anybody, someone had set the clubhouse on fire.

5\. She'd run through the flames without being seriously harmed.

The explanation that made the most sense to him, sounded like a movie script. That some shady organization had experimented on her, that she had escaped and that she was hiding from them now. There was one thing that challenged that theory. If she ran away from some experiments, there would be powerful people who were after her. They would have the means to get a girl back from a motor club. However, there were no signs of people who were after her. Not at all.

Sighing, he finished his smoke while he waited until Juice called him.

It seemed to take forever and he decided to see for himself if the kid had made any progress. When he came into the office, Juice was staring at the screen. His face was pale.

Happy frowned when he saw a picture of Amber.

'So, what did you find? Are were really in some dumb super hero movie?'

"N-no, rather a horror movie?"

The boy turned his head around and stared him in the eye. Happy raised his eyebrows.

"She... She died three weeks ago."


	9. Author's Note

Dear readers,

Since I have twenty (!) unfinished stories which I still try to update, I have decided to focus on two stories at the same time and finish them one by one – which means multiple chapters a week. I've decided to let my readers decide what stories I'm going to finish first, so please leave a comment on this chapter if you want me to work on this one. I will finish all my stories, but it might take a long while before I return to the ones there aren't much people interested in. 

For the amazing readers who read multiple of my works, sorry for the spam!

(I know many readers aren’t comfortable with commenting, so leaving a (-) or something does the job too. ;D)


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